Lines
by ShiningSugar14
Summary: Snake wants to draw a world where the stars line up. He'd settle for Lizzie knowing his name. High school AU, eventually SnakexLizzie. WIP
1. Chapter 1

This idea has been mobbing my head for the past two weeks. Not that I mind.

Dedicated to the lovely folks at the SnakexLizzie FC.

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><p><span>Lines<span>

"We need the reflection of this line, which would be…? Chris?"

"Five-X plus three equals y."

"Good! Next…"

Satisfied that Chris was three rows away and there was barely ten minutes left to class, Snake zoned back out. Linear Algebra petrified Snake beyond all rational thought. Mister Williams, while not a completely old-fashioned teacher, still liked to teach his class in an old-fashioned way. This meant that students could be expected to be called on, in turn, to give answers verbally or come up to the chalk board to write answers out. Snake supposes that, if he had to choose between the two (in the same way that he would choose between hanging and lethal injection), he would choose writing at the chalkboard. His neat, cursive handwriting was one of the few things he had pride in. Furthermore, his voice was always too painfully soft to hear.

Snake spent a lot of Linear Algebra drawing on the graph paper in front of him with the colored pencils that the teacher insisted upon ("Most kids learn visually," he would explain, cheerfully passing out handfuls of colored pencils). If he wasn't called on to draw at the board (or, horror of horrors, to speak), Snake could doodle the entire class away. He drew solid lines, dotted lines, ruler-straight lines, pink-blue-green lines, free-hand lines, and slightly wobbly lines if he noticed that Elizabeth Middleford, the girl who sat in front of him, was giving an answer.

Elizabeth Middleford had been in every single math class Snake had ever taken since fifth grade. She was, in a lot of ways, everything that Snake wasn't. He didn't envy her in the slightest though. Snake wanted nothing to do with the spotlight that Elizabeth didn't crave, but still found herself in very frequently. She was bubbly, cheerful, ready to wow the world with little more than an fluff-topped pencil, blonde pigtails, and a smile that could light up half of town.

She shined, even in the taupe-colored classroom where she wrote squiggly notes to Ciel Phantomhive. Ciel was a hard-worker and would usually ignore Elizabeth's notes. Snake didn't hate Ciel. Ciel hadn't actually done anything to Snake, so it was impossible for Snake to hate Ciel. Snake just wished that Ciel would pay attention to the origami frogs that piled up on Ciel's desk. There were five, at the moment, and Elizabeth Middleford was working on a sixth.

Snake lowers his head and draws more lines. If he could, Snake would graph a different world where all the curly-cue-covered paper frogs were answered with clean, cursive responses. He would settle for a world where Elizabeth Middleford knew his name. He's been in her class since forever and she's never spoken to him. Then again, very few people do speak to him. Sometimes, Snake wonders if his voice will stop working because he barely speaks. But Snake wishes that Elizabeth Middleford would speak to him. Maybe ask him about part of the homework, if she didn't understand it.

The bell rings over his head. It makes his head hurt, as most loud noises do. He packs away his own pencil, leaving Williams' colored pencils out for the next student. Elizabeth Middleford does the same, quickly stashing her fluffy pencil in her designer bag and pulling on Ciel's arm. Ciel neither pushes her away, nor pulls her closer. He just acts as if he has another backpack on him. Snake wonders if that's a good sort of weight, having another person hanging onto his arm. He wonders if he'll ever know firsthand.

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><p>Might be continued, might stay the same. I'll leave it open.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Well, it looks like it expanded into something bigger. Woo!

And I've even got vague shimmers of a plot in my head. Dear God...

Thanks to the Black Butler forums for their constant support, and Brichan for checking it through for spelling things (Even though this isn't her ship...)

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><p><span>Lines<span>

The biggest concern on Snake's mind that December morning was whether he had left the heating lamp for his snakes running or not. Unlike a stove, the concern wasn't about having it turned off, but having it turned on. He usually turned it off when he slept, because he wanted to save electricity and he didn't mind have his pets sleep on him anyway. However, Snake couldn't remember if he had left the lamp on when he went to school.

He must have, Snake reasoned with a firm nod to nothing out the window. He left his wallet by the switch specifically so that he would remember, and he _did _have his wallet with him. So the lamp _had_ to be on. Right. Oscar and Goethe were definitely warm and comfortable.

"Good morning."

Snake's train of thought stopped cold.

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><p>Snake's bus route tended to take student out around the city. They would start in the city, then out past fields, through some of the nicer parts of the city, and back around to the school. As such, Snake just happened to take the bus with Elizabeth Middleford, who lived a ten-minute car ride away.<p>

Throughout his entire life, Lizzie had never acknowledged him. Never seemed to notice that they were in the same class and the same bus. It wouldn't be hard to converse or make small talk. Perhaps they ought to be friends? Maybe he could talk to her about how crowded the bus was, or how loud the dogs could be, or how nice the oak tree was on the corner of Sixth Street and Sage avenue?

The point was that Elizabeth Middleford hadn't spoken to Snake on the bus for nearly ten years, but there she was: On the bus, saying good morning to him. Snake was almost certain that it was him that Lizzie was talking to because she looked him in the eye and even smiled. _Smiled_. Before he could say anything back, Lizzie flounced away to sit with a friend she had seen near the back.

Snake sat, stunned, and thought a while as the bus carried them to school. He thought about his heat lamp, his snakes, and the fact that an entire test on the Victorian era was happening in school today. Most of Snake's thoughts, though, were focused on getting a good morning from Elizabeth Middleford.

He thought of what he could have said back. "Hi" was too jaunty for him. "Hello" was old-fashioned and formal, but closer to his style. "Good morning" would have certainly worked. It worked for her, after all. She might have sat down with him. She might have discussed that oak tree with him. He could have talked to her about Ciel Phantomhive, since that was a topic she seemed to enjoy pursuing with people.

Even while he was wrist-deep in the detritus in his locker, Snake's wheels were still spinning on the slickness of Lizzie's "Good morning." He had begun to ponder her motives. Why did she talk to him? What was going on? He didn't know, he couldn't guess. Lizzie wasn't mean, so he knew that she wasn't trying to trick him, but why now? Why would she say good morning on a cold December morning after the dogs had been loud and his snakes were potentially freezing to death?

The suspense was eating him alive.


	3. Chapter 3

It's finals time here, so what do I do? Write more fic, natch!

There are shades of CielxLizzie here, but I don't actually support that, so it won't be here long, I swear. This is mostly just establishing Lizzie. I'll try to have the next piece of delicious SnakexLizzie up very soon.

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><p>Elizabeth Middleford ("Just call me Lizzie, really!") had grown up in the same place her entire life. She had grown up with the same people around her, including her mother, father, brother, "Aunt" An, and Ciel. She and Ciel were the same age, had the same ideals, similar standards, and had grown up in the same type of upper-class family that had cleaning staff and expensive meals at dark, mahogany tables. In many respects, Lizzie and Ciel were sun and moon, celestial beings residing in the same sky; polar opposites, but sharing the same qualities.<p>

So why, pondered Elizabeth as she glared holes into her piano music. Why, oh, why, was Ciel refusing to ask her to the Spring Dance at school? Certainly, it was only December and the dance wasn't until March, but it never hurt to plan ahead. Or had he found someone else? Well, no, that wouldn't have happened. Ciel would have told her, and Lizzie would have met this person.

"Elizabeth!"

"Yes, mother?"

Her mother, just down the hall, was supervising her daughter's piano practice while she worked on her laptop in her study. "I don't hear you practicing in there!"

Elizabeth looked down at the keys under her fingers. Of course. Practicing. Right. Elizabeth looked at the music she was actually supposed to be playing— "Chopin's Nocturne in C-Sharp"— and began playing.

Maybe Ciel was just assuming that they would go together. They had gone together to every dance since second grade. It was status quo, and Lizzie was very happy with it. Still, he couldn't just assume that Lizzie would always be there. Granted, Lizzie always would, if she had anything to say about it. But Ciel shouldn't just act so passively, Lizzie thought. Lizzie hit a fumbling line on the piece— the same line that she had messed up on the last three times that she had tried it— and hit an A-chord in frustration. Maybe she would call him.

"Mother! I'm going to make a phone call!" Lizzie called down the hallway, her bright tones carrying nearly as well as the piano.

"Alright! Two minutes! Play that piece slower next time!"

"Okay!"

Lizzie slid out from the piano bench and walked to her room to retrieve her phone. She wanted to run down the hall and up the stairs, but it was better that her mother didn't hear her running in the house. Not to mention how unladylike it was to run all over the place. Lizzie retrieved her pink phone from the teddy bear holder on her desk and dialed the number '2.' Cell phone was best, Lizzie decided as she sent the call through. Between club meetings, private tutoring sessions, and actual homework, there was no telling where Ciel would be.

The phone rang as Lizzie laid back against her mattress. Lizzie gazed around the room and waited until Ciel finally picked up.

"Hello?" He sounded rushed. She must have interrupted something.

"Hi! What are you up to?"

"Homework. What's the matter?"

Yes, Lizzie thought. I've definitely interrupted him. Extensive experience with Ciel had taught her that offering to call back later would only irritate him. Best to just go through with it. "Nothing's wrong. I was just wondering if we could talk for a moment."

"About what?"

"The dance."

Lizzie could almost see Ciel flipping through his mental itinerary for the next week-or-so. "What dance?"

"The Spring Dance."

A beat of silence. Then another. Undoubtedly, Ciel was looking at the date, at the snow on the ground. "Lizzie, that's in March."

"I know. Are we going?"

"That's…" Ciel sighed. Lizzie bit her lip and fiddled with her hair. "Sure, yes, we'll go together."

"If you don't want to go, just say so."

"No, I do. I'm just very busy. Can we talk later?"

"Oh, yes! Definitely! I'll talk to you then!"

Ciel hung up without saying a proper good-bye. That was a standard procedure, just like how Ciel never said "I love you." Lizzie couldn't complain, it was just how Ciel operated. It was just another part of what made Ciel himself. Unfortunately, while Lizzie loved Ciel so much that she couldn't stand it, she sometimes wanted someone a bit more… Lizzie could never come up with the word. It fell somewhere between "open" and "loving," but it wasn't really either of those things. Articulating what she wanted was just another complicated line in a piece of music: Something to take slowly.

Satisfied that at least her main question had been answered— They _were_ going to the dance— Lizzie made her way back to the piano.


End file.
